An Unlikely Pairing
by Hyperteenager24
Summary: Flambeau was lucky… or so he kept telling himself as he screamed through the pain. Crack treated seriously (A/B/O dynamics)
1. Chapter 1

Flambeau was lucky… or so he kept telling himself as he screamed through the pain.

He could still remember all the lessons he'd been forced to go through as a young omega.

Suck it up and push. This was all for your Alpha. You were bringing an heir into the world for your Alpha.

If he were in an actual bonded relationship, he could have expected having meals brought to him in bed, getting shoulder rubs and belly rubs…. And he would have eaten it up… taking full advantage of the Father's kindness.

And then he would have had a target for this. Someone to throw things at.

"I hate you, you bastard…" he growled, the words echoing throughout the empty, "… I hate you!"

His words came out strangled, words barely understandable. He knew his face was probably bright red by now as he yelled again at the next push, the volume just shy of a scream. His hair probably wasn't perfect anymore, mussed and matted, sweaty like the rest of him.

He remembered how this happened…. He wished it could have been due to his seductive prowess, finally turning the Father over to his side.

In actual reality, he was foolish enough to get caught days before his heat with no suppressants, and the Father was foolish enough to come after him, in order to be injected with something to caused his rut to bubble up.

And wasn't that a surprise? Learning that the Father, was actually an Alpha?

At first, the Father had actually seemed afraid for once in his life.

He'd been on suppressants for almost all of his adult life, of course it was terrifying to him.

As their heat and rut took over, Flambeau was ashamed to remember how he pressed himself up against the Alpha, begging to be told how pretty he was.

The Father had thankfully indulged him, and things devolved from there.

The initial event passed by in a rush of heat, lust and grunting. When the Father knotted however, that's when the problems began.

He tried to pull out, making Flambeau yelp and wrap his arms around the Father's neck, tugging him back down and trying to keep him calm. He wrapped his legs around the Father's back until there wasn't a chance for him to get away – wasn't a chance for him to move. "Stay still!" he snapped, omega instincts rising to the surface at the thought of his 'chosen' Alpha rejecting him.

He could still remember the shaking in Father's voice as he stared down at Flambeau, quietly uttering his name.

"Flambeau, I- "

"- Just. Stay. Still. It'll all be over soon."

Even the Father gave into his basic human instincts at that point.

It had been… better than expected, and yet, when the lust cleared and everything came back into focus, Flambeau couldn't help but blame the Father for everything.

Why did the foolish man have to come after him and get himself drugged? Why did he have to put them in that position?

He ran and when he found out that he was with child, he was desperate to hate the Father even more.

But he couldn't.

Another wave of pain shattered the memory and Flambeau grunted through yet another contraction.

Yes, he hated the man… but he couldn't help but love him as well.

And then it happened… it's not loud, not like his first child. But it sounded the same, almost like a kitten wailing for its mother.

Pushing himself up to a seated position, he turned his attention to the coat he'd placed underneath himself, where a squirming, bloody lay, the crying getting louder and louder.

A son…. A little boy.

Between one second and the next, he has a whole life that depends on him… who needs him.

It felt like no time ad passed at all… like he'd only blinked. His body seemed to have moved automatically and soon his son was clean and in his arms.

"Hello… Sidney."

…

"Why won't you sleep?!" Flambeau hissed, fingers running through his hair in stress, "You're clean, you've been fed, you're warm, what more do you need?!"

His son had clearly already inherited a combination of both his and the Father's stubbornness, and merely stared up at him, almost smugly.

"I cannot wait for these 6 months to be over."

In his heart of hearts though, he knew that wasn't true… the last time he'd gone through this, birthing a little girl, it had been way too easy to drop the baby off at the doors of an orphanage after the six months and leave without a backwards glance.

This time, it clearly wasn't going to be as easy.

…..

Sidney hadn't stopped crying ever since they entered England, squawking like he was having to go through the indignity of being harassed by a bunch of strangers and cooed over… alright maybe he was, but he'd never remember it.

Not like Flambeau would.

Getting to Kembleford from Dover was fairly easy, and soon he could see the church spire in the distance.

Thankfully, the baby had quietened down, making his walk through the cobbled streets so much easier, especially with all the gossipy busybodies roaming around, their blinds open just a crack… just enough to see what was going on.

Full darkness had settled over the village by the time he reached the Father's home. The note was already written, leaving him to pin it to his son's blanket, set the basket down, knock on the door and run.

And yet, as he went to place the basket on the ground, he found himself lingering, eyes focused on his sons' face.

Could he really do this?

… Yes.

He didn't need the baggage of taking care of a child as he liberated people of their property. Having a child around, was nothing but a risk.

Then again… maybe a sidekick would be nice.

No.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts.

"I am sorry Sidney." he whispered, brushing his son's hair one last time, before knocking loudly on the door and making a run for it.

…

Father Brown frowned as he slowly made his way through the drafty corridors, shivering slightly as his bare feet touched the stone.

The knock on the door had come as a shock, but there was always a chance someone needed him for Last Rites. However, as soon as he opened the door, he realised that that wasn't the case.

The baby started to whimper, prompting the Father to kneel down quickly and pick him up, balancing it in one arm and unpinning the note with the other hand, only just managing to open it without dropping the baby.

What he read made his blood run cold.

Dear Father.

I cannot apologise enough for doing this, but I couldn't just leave him in an orphanage. I couldn't let him be forgotten and mistreated by the rest of the world.

I know that you probably want to forget the last time we saw each other, I'm sure that you never expected anything to come of it… but it did.

Sidney is your son, our son.

Please take care of him mon amour.

F

Father Brown's eyes widened with every word and he quickly raced up the steps that led to the main street, glancing around in the hope that Flambeau was hanging around.

Nothing.

And then the baby started to cry.

"Oh dear."

….

Sidney had been home for all of thirty-seven minutes. He had been screaming his tiny little head off for the last ten of those thirty-seven minutes.

"He's so red Mrs M!" Lady Felicia cried out, "He's not breathing, is he swaddled too tight?!"

"Oh, he's breathing…" Father Brown sighed, "… he wouldn't be so loud otherwise. Maybe we should try the milk in a different bottle?"

"What he needs, is his Mother!" Mrs McCarthy groaned in exasperation, "He's far too young to be separated like this!"

"Six months is old enough for him to be weaned, but yes…" Father Brown glanced down at the boy… his boy according to the note left on the blanket, "… I believe Mrs McCarthy is right. I think he is missing his Mother."

Slowly, he lifted the baby into his own arms, cradling him in his grasp, bouncing him gently and humming one of his favourite hymns, ignoring how he was drowned out by the babies' shrieks. The baby… Sidney… had been crying so hard that his face had turned a deep purple-red and the high-pitched wailing was tearing the Father apart.

"Come on Sidney…" he whispered, "…Daddy is trying, what do you need? You don't seem to want to eat and your nappy is- " Sidney tensed, arching his tiny back. There was a terrible smell and Sidney immediately stopped crying.

"Ah…" Father Brown sighed, "… we seem to have found the problem."

Sidney clearly still wasn't happy, but the worst of the crying seemed to have passed.

"Well, now is as good as time as any to learn how to change a nappy." Mrs McCarthy sighed, "Follow me. I'm sure we have some spare in the donations box, God forgive us."

"I believe God will forgive us this one time."

"I can only hope so…. Wipe from front to back Father and hold your breath."

The Father frowned at this, carrying Sidney into the spare room, placing him on the neat bed. The baby fussed and grunted, kicking out at him, but thankfully not screeching like before.

"Okay Sidney, forgive me, but I've never had to do this before." Father Brown slowly removed the clothes, chuckling warmly as tiny legs kicked out of him. However, the smile soon disappeared from his face, and he gagged, "M-Mrs McCarthy!"

She immediately rushed in, a bottle of milk in her hands, along with some fresh nappies. "What? What is it?"

The look on the Father's face said it all.

"Oh, honestly Father!" She shook her head, "He's uncomfortable! Take a deep breath and sort it out!"

Father Brown frowned, "I don't mean to be rude Mrs McCarthy, but I think even you would have trouble with this."

She merely rose any eyebrow at him, before moving over to Sidney and moving the nappy for herself, immediately putting it back where it was just as the Father had done before, taking a step back, clearly resisting the urge to make the sign of the cross.

Father Brown couldn't resist the urge to smirk, "See what I mean?"

After sending the Father a vicious glare, she cleared her throat and straightened up, "The rest of the nappies are yours." Holding her breath, she cleared dealt with the nappy and disposed of it. "You can give him a bath…" she ordered, "… I'm sure you don't need my help with that."

Noticing how Sidney was falling asleep, Father Brown decided to wet a clean cloth, "He's falling asleep… I think I'll give him a proper bath when he wakes up. Gives him a chance to rest his lungs."

"Hmmm, and if he needs another change, you can be the one to do it. You will need the practice Father."

"Of course Mrs McCarthy."

Cradling Sidney against his chest, Father Brown headed over to the spare room, which he knew Mrs McCarthy was already planning to do up. He took a seat on the bed, leaning back against the wall, Sidney sprawled out on his belly on top of his chest.

"You shouldn't worry you know."

The Father glanced over at the doorway, where Lady Felicia was standing, a fond smile on her face.

"You've survived worse than a few dirty nappies." She continued, "He's only been here a few hours and you're doing fine. He's sleeping like a little angel now."

"I get the feeling, that that won't last very long."

Sidney seemed to grumble in agreement, snuffling slightly.


	2. Chapter 2

It took three years before Flambeau worked up the courage to go back to Kembleford.

It's because he was busy, he kept telling himself, he didn't have time to come back and see how Sidney was doing.

A small part of him knew this wasn't true… a small part of him had yearned to go back to the village and check on his son, making sure that he was happy and healthy.

It was the week of Sidney's third birthday, when Flambeau made his fateful decision, a small present concealed in his bag. When he moved into his hotel room, he checked on the present to make sure he still had… and to remind himself why he was actually here.

The grey and white teddy was half-buried in his clothes. The right eye was a little lopsided, but aside from that, it was the perfect present for a three-year-old toddler.

It was then, that he made his way to the small village of Kembleford. As he got closer to the home of Father Brown, the smell of pancakes filled the air. When the door flung open, Flambeau ducked down into shelter, watching as Father Brown made his way out of the door a little bit, "SIDNEY!" he called out, "SIDNEY!"

From around the corner of the house, a toddler came racing around, running straight into the Father's arms, who lifted him into the air, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Flambeau couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face as the Father kissed Sidney's cheek.

"Here's the birthday boy! I believe Mrs McCarthy has made you some pancakes."

"Yay!"

From his position, Flambeau could instantly tell that his son did take after his Sire a lot, although the boy did seem to have his eyes. As they made their way inside, Flambeau moved a little closer to the window, where he could hide behind some bushes and continue to watch the day's events through the window.

There weren't many presents there, but Sidney still seemed thrilled at what he saw.

It was probably good that he gave Sid up.

As the toddler ate his pancakes, perfectly wrapped presents were placed in front of him. A bible (honestly, the boy couldn't even read yet), a few wooden toy soldiers and other bits and bobs.

Simple… but Sidney seemed happy enough.

Knowing that the majority of the celebrations were probably over, Flambeau made his way over to the door, placing his present on the doorstep, knocking on the door and making a quick getaway, finding his own hiding place.

Much like he had all those years, the Father opened up the door, eyes falling on the teddy left on the doorstep, before moving out a bit further, to see whether or not he could find the not-so mysterious gift-giver.

"He'd like to meet you, you know." The Father stated nonchalantly, apparently speaking to no-one, "I've told him about you."

Flambeau was tempted… but this was for the better.

When the Father finally gave up and went back inside, taking the teddy with him, Flambeau was already long gone.

…..…..

"And just what is that?" Mrs McCarthy pressed a hand against her chest at the sight of the slightly tatty looking teddy, "Is that- "

She stopped as Father Brown slowly lowered himself to his son's level, holding the teddy out to him. "Guess who this is from?"

Sid stared at him, before shaking his head. "Dunno Daddy."

"This is off your… Mummy."

"Really?!" Sid visibly brightened up in excitement, gently taking the bear, "For my birfday?"

"Of course."

Sid then glanced around, pouting when he didn't see anyone else in the room. "He not here t'ough?"

A look of regret flashed across Father Brown's face, before he shook his head, "He… couldn't stay."

Thankfully, Sid seemed to accept that as he started to play in his own imaginary little world, leaving Father Brown to deal with Mrs McCarthy and Lady Felicia.

"What was I meant to do?" He asked, "Ignore the teddy and throw it away?"

"Yes!"

"Flambeau took a large risk by coming here. He cares enough to give his son a present."

"For the first time." Lady Felicia gently pointed out, "And that thing doesn't even look new."

"A present doesn't have to be new to be loved."

That night, as Sid slept with the teddy for the first time, Father Brown watched sadly from the doorway.

One meeting. That's all it would take.

One.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sidney Brown."

The seven-year-old yelped, throwing the slim notebook under his bed and turning innocent eyes on his father. "Good morning Daddy!"

Father Brown was unconvinced, folding his arms over his chest, "And just what are you up to?"

"Nothing! I was- uh- I was only- going out to play!" Sidney raced past his Dad, heading towards the front door, as Father Brown groaned in exasperation.

"Stay out of the roads! Stick to the grass!"

"Yes Daddy!"

And then the front door was slammed shut, closely followed by Mrs McCarthy opening it again to yell out about closing the door like a 'gentleman not a hooligan!'

This was then closely followed by, "Stay out of the mud, it takes me forever to clean the stains off of your clothes!"

Bending down, Father Brown retrieved the notebook, instantly recognising it as one of his own… one that he would write down case notes in.

One that mentioned Flambeau often.

Yes, Sidney might not be able to read all the words, but he could read enough, and it was entirely possible, he read some of what Father Brown had written about his mother.

"Little thief." He muttered fondly, before shaking his head and shoving the notebook in his pocket and heading to his own room.

Just for a little prayer.

…

"And we're up, up and away!"

Sid leapt from the tree, remaining in the air for a few moments, before landing heavily on the ground, and rolling to safety as the other children cheered.

It was going against everything that Mrs McCarthy had told him that morning, but Sid continued to roll down the grassy hill until he was nearly in the middle of the road, diving out of the way as the police car beeped angrily.

"Sidney Brown!" Sergeant Valentine stepped out of the car, glaring down at the young boy, "What have we told you about rolling down those hills?"

"Not to." Sid beamed cheekily up at him, "How are you today Sergeant?"

Valentine glared down at the boy for a moment, before a fond smile appeared on his face and he shook his head fondly.

"That smile won't work every time you know."

"Is it going to work this time?"

"… Go on! Off the road!" Valentine rolled his eyes, "You don't want to- "

"-FIRE! FIRE!"

Sid and Valentine turned as several people came rushing over, all frantically crowding around Valentine.

"It's Father Brown's home!" One of them called out, "The Father's home is on fire!"

Valentine's eyes widened in alarm, moving to grab Sid, only to miss as the seven-year-old raced back towards home.

"DAD! DAD!"

"SIDNEY! GET BACK HERE!"

….

"Dad!" Sidney stared at the burning building, "Dad!"

He moved to push past the firemen, only to be grabbed around the waist and lifted into the air,

"No, no, no!" Valentine kept a tight hold of the squirming child, "You can't go in there!"

"DAD!"

"Sergeant Valentine!"

Valentine turned, sighing in relief at the sight of Mrs McCarthy rushing over to them, her shopping basket full. Before he could say anything though, Mrs McCarthy dropped the basket in shock at the sight of the fire.

"Father Brown!" She gasped, turning to Valentine, "He's still in there!"

…..

He couldn't breathe.

He drew his hands to his chest, fingertips burnt and bleeding, scrabbling for air.

He really couldn't breathe.

The fire roared all around him, eating hungrily at the home around him, flames licking at the wood of the structure and turning years' worth of memories into soot and ash.

Father Brown winced as he coughed harshly, unable to gather up the strength to try and find a way out.

He was only vaguely aware of the heat all around him, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, hearing the screams coming from outside.

Sidney.

He had to get to Sidney.

Mustering up what little energy he had left, he pulled himself towards the exit, just as shadowy figures made their way inside.

"We've got him!" A voice cried out, "We've got him!"

Father Brown sighed in relief, before allowing the darkness to creep in.

…..…

"He inhaled a lot of smoke, but he'll be fine." The Doctor reported, "I'd like to keep him here for a few days, just to make sure he can breathe on his own."

Mrs McCarthy nodded tearfully, Sid in her arms.

"Is there… is there anyone who can look after the child?"

"… Me. Of course."

The Doctor winced at the offended tone in her voice, "I was just- "

"- I have helped raised this child since he was just a mere babe." Mrs McCarthy straightened up, looking the man right in the eye, "The Father will be back on his feet in no time at all, but until then, I can manage."

"I-I apologise, I just thought that his mother might- "

"- Sidney's mother is in no position to take care of him at this time." Mrs McCarthy lifted Sid into her arms, "Please, let us know if there are any changes in his condition."

…..….

Flambeau was already well on his way to Kembleford when he heard the news about the fire.

One of his old business partners had decided to get a little revenge, and Flambeau knew that the first person they'd go for, was the Father.

The only one to ever nearly get the better of him.

When he heard about the fire however, he feared the worst.

What if someone had found out about Sidney as well?

Due to the chaos of the fire and the attack on the Father, he found it easy to sneak into the hospital and find the man. Disguised as a Doctor, he headed into the room, sighing in relief at the sight of the Father unconscious on the bed.

He knew it could have been a lot, lot worse.

"Oh Father." He whispered, moving over to the bed, placing his hand on top of the Alpha's, "You will give me grey hairs one of these days."

"Who are you?"

Flambeau flinched, spinning around to see a small child staring up at him… a very familiar small child.

"Sidney."

Sidney frowned and tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Who are you?"

"I-I- " Oh, how Flambeau hated this. The ability to be struck dumb like this, "- I'm a friend of your Father's."

Sidney had definitely got his suspicious nature, as he narrowed his eyes and glared at him. "No, you're not." He stated matter-of-factly, "Otherwise you wouldn't be dressed like a Doctor and sneaking around."

"I- " There is was again. That dumb-struck awe.

Flambeau had never been so proud.

"Are you…" Sidney hesitated for a few moments, looking down sheepishly, "… are you my Mummy?"

He could lie… he really should lie.

"… Yes."

Dammit.


End file.
